AND THEN CAME HOPE

I've been seeing this chiropractor for the past few weeks and I'm now able to sit down in the chair without discomfort.

I'm also able to draw a little better, so long as I slow down. Wayyyy down. It takes me about four days to get a page done and I can't get too crazy with background details, but if I really take my time and don't freak out when the line jumps a bit, I can actually get a page finished.

The chiropractor also believes that I injured the wrist in my fall. He says that I may still have some swelling there, so we can't do x-rays yet, since the swelling would block the view. He's gotten me this far, I'm going to stick with his plan.

All of you folks have been amazing to me during this and I really want to say thanks.

I'm working on the book again. It should be ready in '09. I hope you all dig it.

Same ol', same ol'

What to do.

I try to get past those three words and I can't help but cry. I've been trying so hard to do what the doctors say... what friends recommend... what the internet explain... but in the end, I pick up my brush and its as it's been.

A jittery line.

Everyone tells me to hang in there. To be strong. That this will pass.

So far, it hasn't happened.

And each time I try and it doesn't happen... it kills a tiny bit more. The hand knows what the brain is telling it to do, but it can't seem to execute those lines that I could do in my sleep at one time.

I feel as if I'm letting so many people down. My readers, Image, comics shop owners, my wife, my characters. Each time I try to draw Lily, there's this feeling of loss that hits me. As though I'm losing that character. Each time I try, it seems a little worse. I just tried to draw that familiar look, where she's looking at the reader, with her shoulder up a bit. Jesus... I can't execute that image and it fucking kills me.

I'm getting emails from readers who want to know when the next issue is coming out and I can only explain it so many times to where I just ignore the emails. It hurts too much to give the run-down over and over. I want to yell, "IT'LL COME OUT WHEN I CAN FUCKING DRAW AGAIN" but I know that's not the right thing to do.

I just miss my art.

It's hard to be strong when you're losing something that has gotten you through so much in life. No matter what happened to me in my life, I've been able to express it on paper. This is the first time in my life where I'm afraid to touch a pencil and pen. When the jittery lines appear, it's like throwing a brick through a stain glass window.

Lily will tell me things like "I don't really notice it" to lift my spirits, but it doesn't help. It's there. Because I can feel it as I draw and see it in my line. It's not about what the reader can see. It's about what I see. This isn't a bad back or a sprained knee... this is my art. I can't put work out there in hope that people won't notice the messed-up line work.

My art has been my entire world since I was five years old. And now I can't do it.

I'm taking pills I wouldn't take in a million years. I'm wearing a magnet bracelet. I'm seeing two doctors. I'm emotionally fucked up and the one thing I would do to ease my mind is the one thing I cannot fucking do. Each time I try something, I sit down and nothing has changed.

My cartooning is more than art. It's my sanctuary. It's my Hundred Acre Woods.

It's that place I can turn to when the rest of the world is hitting on my skull. My cartooning is what got me through mom and dad dying. It got me through my first divorce. It got me through the times where I truly didn't know how I was going to buy food, or pay rent. It's what I did to meet people in school. It's how I got girls to notice me. And it's what I did... for me.

It's what I did to show the world how I met such an exceptional woman who's changed my universe.

It's what I did to spread my wings and soar.

I could be sitting in Starbucks at a table, drinking a coffee and sketching in one of my books. But what nobody can see is how utterly breathtaking it is to create even the simplest doodle. To draw the egg-shaped circle that is the head. To divide it up so the eyes rest on the horizontal line... so they even up. To then fill out the face... the eyes, the nose, the smile. The hair. To then breathe some life into that simple drawing.

I miss it more than I miss my parents.

If it came back to me, I'm confident I could take having cancer. I could hear the news and say to the doctor, "I can deal with this... I once lost my art." If you're an artist, you can understand that.

If you don't draw, you cannot imagine how that is so much a part of my life. When I see people, anyone, the first thing that comes to mind is how I could draw them. What makes them unique, artistically. Do they have a round or thin face? Their eyes. Their smile. Their hair. Their bodies. How could I translate that to the page. And in every case, I could sit down and do it.

And now... forget it.

I'm not going to give up. But even as I say that, it kills me that I even HAVE to say it. But the pain of trying hurst that much more each time. I'm terrified. I'm emotional. I'm irrational.

I just want to draw again.


I miss it so.

WHAT THE FU#*#*#????

It's true, Belanders... I'VE BEEN BANNED FROM THE BENDIS BOARDS!!!



See... I read earlier that Gail Simone announced that she now ran the Bendis boards and not Brian.

But what the fuck did Gail do to make such a claim? You don't just announce... "excuse me... but I'm in charge now.."

No. You go out and you fucking take it. Run that land on a wild stallion and lay claim to all of it.

So... I went on every thread and announced that I had laid claim to each thread, which to them, is spamming. HOWEVER.. I DO have to say that, in my defense, I added a line or two after each post that tied IN with each thread. So... since each post was unique and different... it cannot be technically dubbed "spamming."

I told this to Brian in a confidential email.

Ummm..... Brian shut me down.

Sad. Not even a trial. From a man who once penned the voice of Matt Murdock.

Murdock would've won this. Pro bono.

Now, I'm going to accept my banishment. I'll sit here in the desert and stare at the oasis from afar. Eating a scorpion every now and then... and you know what..?

Each time a scorpion stings my tongue, it'll just make me stronger. And when I return Bendisboard... ohhhh WHEN I RETURN... I WILL BRING A BOUNTY OF SCORPION-INDUCED HUMOR THAT WILL MAKE THE ANCIENTS HEED NOTICE!!!



... I SHALL RETURN.

okay, time for ravioli.

Okay, update time...

The back, to my shock, has gotten better. The lower back is still tight, but the upper part and my neck seem to be back to normal. I'm at least able to move around now and not confined to the sofa. As much as I love television, I could only watch so many episodes of THROWDOWN WITH BOBBY FLAY and PARDON THE INTERRUPTION before going insane.

Which brings me to this freakin' hand problem. We went to our neurologist the other day and he told me, "I want you to try this."



"This" is called Primidone. It's a harmless looking pill, don't it look cute..?

"Primidone.." I say as I look at the prescription. "I never heard of it."

"I want you to take this every morning," he tells me. "This should help with the hand jittering.

"Are there any side-effects..?" I asked. Hey, they always tell you to ask about the side effects on tv, right..? So long as there's no painful diarrea and rectal vomiting or my eyeballs exploding or disappearance of my nads, I should be okay, right?

"You might feel a little groggy, but other than that, nothing." he tells me.

So, I got the pills and, the next day, I woke up and took the pill that will let me draw again. And in a fucking hour I felt like this:



And not just for an hour... oh, nooooOOOooo... I felt like this the entire day and through the night. There was a storm hitting Puerto Rico last night with lots of thunder and, at one point, I heard an airplane coming in for a landing and, well, you can only imagine what images were going through my head being that high.

And when I say I was high... I mean... I was FUCKING. HIGH.

This was the worst drug I've ever taken in my life. And I've had bad acid while hiking up that trail on Browns Valley Road. I've had mushrooms with a guy who couldn't shut the hell up. And I've smoked some truly, truly bad weed.

Primidone makes all those others its bitch.

I don't remember one minute of yesterday, save for me standing naked in the bathroom holding the bottle in my hand, pointing at it and muttering "NOOOO PRIMIDONE... BADDD PRIMIDONE..."

I gave my wife the bottle and said "never again." Did it help my hand..? How he fuck do I know, I was HIGH. I DID find a page that I inked last night and, though the inking looked a little better, I was insanely stoned when I did it. How am I supposed to do a 24-page book like that?? I'll choose marijuana over Primidone.

Marijuana at least makes the high a fun time. Some giggling, some artwork, eight chocolate shakes and a pizza with a side order of chinese food and the day is done! Primidone kicks the door in with Hydra agents and clobbers you on the head and knocks you out until you wake up on the side of the street tied to a lamppost in your underwear. No fun.

I DID, however, have a dream that Giada de Laurentiis came onto me during a Food Network shoot.



I'm as amazed as you are... but I can truly say that she was determined. Maybe it's the way I pronounce "mazzarella." Awwwww Giada... I always knew you were a saucy wench.

So, around noon, when the fog lifted and it was time to go meet with my editor about the "Fantastic Four: Isla de la Muerta" sequel, I at last had my wits about me and came out of that freakin' fog. Then he cancelled. DAMNED YOU ALEJANDRO AND YOUR BUSY SCHEDULE!!!!!!

To say that I'm touched by all the nice words of encouragement is an understatement. Gail Simone never wrote, but hey, what can you expect from someone who hates kittens? Really? You didn't know that?

Really, I've been so moved by the emails and Facebook notes (and for the record, I never use the FunWall, so please stop) that I can never properly put it into words. I may have a tiny readership, but damned if it ain't a loyal one. You guys are Amazing, Spectacular, Sensational and... ummmm... TEAM-UP!!!

Naw, really people... you're the greatest. I'm just going to be patient on this. Humor has always got me through a lot of things, it'll get me through this.

And, fortunately, the FF script is going to fucking rock.

I really need a hug.

Well, the back is still killing me and that jitter in my drawing hand is still there. It's been two weeks since I've been off caffeine and I still shake as much as I have before. Simply put... I cannot draw.

For anyone who knows me in any way whatsoever, you know how I feel about it.

I've done all I can do and I've done all the swearing, brush and paper throwing and crying I can do. I'm pretty much empty inside. I've been drawing since I was a kid and now it's just not there anymore. Not the way I'm happy with at least.

I've had support from my wife and friends, but I don't think they understand truly what I'm going through. This is such a loss to me on an emotional and spiritual level. I just don't see it improving. Every time I pick up a pencil or brush, that shake is right there. Lily will tell me it looks fine, but it doesn't help.

I called my sister to tell her what was going on and she doesn't get it either. She's going through a divorce and every time I tried to talk to her about it, the conversation went to what an asshole her husband is. Yeah, I get it. I hung up and wished I could've had some support there. But my own family doesn't look for my book. That has always hurt, but I really feel like I'm going through this alone. I don't want to hear it's going to get better, I want to SEE it getting better.

The fact is, I see that shaky line everywhere on the page. I feel it as I make the line itself and it kills me when I look at my page.

And then I got the numbers on my TSSTG ARCHIVE COLLECTION:



Image has lost two grand on it. I guess the public has officially spoken.

This was the book I was hoping Image would make money on. Every issue they've published has lost money for them. Add this to my health issues and I'm ready to tie myself to a boulder and push it off a bridge.

BRING ON THE COMMISSIONS!

I'm going to be accepting commissions for the time being. If there's something you're interested in me drawing, you can email me at tom@tombeland.com. All pieces are on 8.5" x 11" and are created with colored pencil. I use PayPal. $40 per commission, depending on difficulty.

Here are some examples:

LOOK FOR US IN CHICAGO IN 09!!

So here's the thing. I have a shitload of relatives in Chicago who I haven't seen in decades. And I haven't been to Wrigley Field... or an actual White Castle stand, or even eaten a deep-freaking-dish pizza. I haven't been to the Museum of Art in ages and I need to see if they still have my favorite painting of all time there:



All that said... I need to go and hang out at the Loop and try to figure out that Picasso statue. Anyhoo... if you're there next year, look us up!